


taming the tempest

by ThornyOnMain



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Cock Warming, Crimson Fire Alternative Ending, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Extremely Dubious Consent, FE3H Kinkmeme, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Possessive Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicide Attempt, Tempest King Dimitri, Violence, Whipping, Whump, ambiguous ending, dimitri's massive royal cock, horny horror, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25879966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornyOnMain/pseuds/ThornyOnMain
Summary: "Felix’s gag reflexes disappeared months ago. Maybe longer. He hates not having track of time. Dimitri is tense today, so he tries to be artful enough that he won’t merely get his skull fucked. The King appears to be in the mood for it.He was terrible at this when he started. Worse during the weeks where he’d refused, naive enough to think Dimitri would merely kill him rather than be more creative about putting Felix in his place. Like most things, Felix advanced with practice. He learned that pleasuring the boar as efficiently as possible left him alone longer and less likely to be used as an open hole.It has side effects. Felix feels an unintentional surge of pride when he hears the pleased shudder as Felix softly mouths the beast to hardness. The swell in his mouth is familiar enough to be comfortable and even the musk entering Felix’s nose as he takes the royal cock deeper still, has gained its own value. The more useful Felix makes himself, the more it seems like he’s actually given way and broken, the more likely he will have another chance to escape."the tempest king wins the war, felix is captured and instead of being locked up or executed, dimitri finds better uses for him
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 18
Kudos: 180
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	1. personal plaything

**Author's Note:**

> originally started as a kink_meme fill for [this prompt](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=175836#cmt175836)
> 
> Dimitri/Felix - non-con, humiliation  
> Crimson Flower Route, Felix joined Edelgards army.  
> Somehow Edelgards side loses the war and Felix becomes Dimitris prisoner. Rather than being executed for treason he gets chained up in Dimitris room and becomes is personal plaything.  
> Felix would probably try to escape but just ends up being caught and punished by Dimitri in the end.  
> Dimitri fucking Felix in front of the mirror to show him the control he has over him would be amazing too.
> 
>  **content warnings please read** non-con/dub-con; violence; basically a lot of beating up on felix

The King’s chambers are dark. Felix tends to lose track of time when it’s like this and he hates it almost as much as everything else that has become common in the hell of his current circumstance. He thinks at least two months have past since his second failed attempt at escape. He’d been close, so fucking close, the knife’s edge pressed against the Tempest King’s throat. If Felix had pressed down then, he’d be free. Even dead, he’d still be free and better yet he would have taken the beast with him. Instead of accomplishing what should have been a simple task, slitting the throat of his enemy, Felix hesitated. He remembers the pause and hates the gnawing ache in his stomach as he thinks of it. It had not been long, but it had been long enough for the beast to grab the wrist holding the knife in a literally breaking grip.

Felix was weak and paid for it. The monster wearing Dimitri’s skin made him pause for the barest of moments and the subsequent punishment still had Felix wincing at the thought.

He’s grown so accustomed to the loud footfalls of the boar’s arrival that Felix drops to his knees on the floor, head down, moments before the chamber door swings open. Felix hears the footsteps falter, that grave almost pleased chuckle, and then attempts not to wince as the curtains are pulled open, allowing the sharp sun of midday into the room.

A few hours then. Felix tries to focus on that rather than the muttering from the rabid monster he should’ve put down when he had the chance. Sometimes Dimitri came and needed midday _relief_ , other times if Felix was still enough, he didn’t notice him at all. It was easier to be a prop in the room than anything else he was used for.

Felix wonders if two months was enough for Dimitri to let his guard down again, as much as it ever had. The muttering stops and the sounds of footsteps near. Felix keeps his head down, but knows he isn’t decorative today.

Dimitri’s hand traces down Felix’s face in a false display of tenderness that does not match his words, even as they drip with sweetness from the boar’s mouth. “We are close to finding the last of your traitorous little friends.”

Felix isn’t sure who was even left. Most of them had died at Tailtean, unfortunately for Felix, he had not. The tender touch of the hand shifts as Felix’s expected it would and tilts his head up to meet the crazed blue eyes of the Tempest King. “Should I deliver their head to you once we do?” His lips quirk up in a smile that used to twist Felix’s insides in an entirely different way.

Felix’s voice is even, placid, relaxed. “Whatever you wish, Your Majesty.”

The crazed eyes look over Felix, a beast sizing up his prey, and then he drops Felix’s chin with a scoff. “I should not be surprised your loyalty to _her_ is as fleeing as it was to me.”

 _Not to you. Never_ you _, boar_. Felix thinks, but has learned to keep his face still as he does so. It took a long while to get to the point where he could. Biting his tongue had not accomplished much in placating Dimitri when every rage filled thought was painted plainly across his face.

After a moment, Dimitri makes an annoyed gruff, bristling as the beast is wont to do. “Varley territory is being fought over by loyal lords like mindless carrions,” Dimitri says, elucidating as to whom he was speaking of.

Felix digs his nails into his palms as he thinks of Bernadetta and it takes additional effort to keep his face blank. A reaction would only do her a greater pain if she was caught.

“I was deeply considering snapping the neck of the next one who spoke,” Dimitri says, so effortlessly casual, as if it was a hypothetical and not something that Felix had witnessed him do. “Come here,” he says, patting his leg.

Felix doesn’t rise, there’s no point, but he moves towards him on his knees. The dark, pleased chuckle he gets in response is a sick relief. Dimitri undoes one of the chains tethering Felix to the wall and then drags him forward by his neck. Felix braces himself for a harder encouragement, a squeeze, a threat of his own neck being snapped, but the grip hardly bruises and seems more for efficiency than anything else.

“I need to relax,” Dimitri says and then undoes the chain holding Felix’s hands together.

It’s clear from where Dimitri placed him, that he does not have much intention of Felix using his hands, but the freedom of movement is a relief. Felix has been malleable, attentive, and obedient for this long to earn little freedoms like this. He uses it to his advantage and undoes the laces of the King’s trousers, freeing his unfortunately large cock.

Felix’s gag reflexes disappeared months ago. Maybe longer. He hates not having track of time. Dimitri is tense today, so he tries to be artful enough that he won’t merely get his skull fucked. The King appears to be in the mood for it.

He was terrible at this when he started. Worse during the weeks where he’d refused, naive enough to think Dimitri would merely kill him rather than be more creative about putting Felix in his place. Like most things, Felix advanced with practice. He learned that pleasuring the boar as efficiently as possible left him alone longer and less likely to be used as an open hole.

It has side effects. Felix feels an unintentional surge of pride when he hears the pleased shudder as Felix softly mouths the beast to hardness. The swell in his mouth is familiar enough to be comfortable and even the musk entering Felix’s nose as he takes the royal cock deeper still, has gained its own value. The more useful Felix makes himself, the more it seems like he’s actually given way and broken, the more likely he will have another chance to escape.

The King’s hands stroke Felix’s hair affectionately as Felix continues to take him into his mouth, salivating and stroking with his tongue where he best can. A sense of accomplishment (and relief) floods Felix as the boar’s seed floods his mouth. He continues to suck, until Felix has milked every drop.

He remembers the time he spit and barely resists the urge to shudder.

Felix risks a look up as he lets it limply drop from his lips. Dimitri does seem more relaxed now. Less likely to snap the neck of an ally, although who knows how long that mood will stay if they continue to irritate him. A beast such as the Tempest King wasn’t made for peace and it’s only a matter of time before he’ll want violence and war to whet his teeth again.

“I should bring you to the next session,” Dimitri says, running his fingers through Felix’s hair.

Should doesn’t mean he will, Felix hopes. The last time, he was humiliatingly laid out on a table, while Dimitri slowly fucked him in front of former friends and allies too Goddess-damned weak to make any sort of objection. There is something particularly frustrating and demeaning about being a cockwarmer for the King—even more so that being his kept whore.

Dimitri hums a little and too softly brushes a thumb over Felix’s lower lip. Then he adjusts himself back into his trousers and leaves.

Felix is not tied to anything. His ankles are still chained together and he doubts he can get far, but the fact that he wasn’t restrained back to his place against the wall means that his assumed obedience has been worth it.

The only leisure he takes is standing and walking around the room, finally getting some stretch of his legs after a long morning kneeling. He dares stare out the open curtains, the sun bright against the midday sky. He thinks maybe it’s summer.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

It is dark by the time Dimitri returns. For as pleased as Felix was to be forgotten, he hasn’t eaten anything but the boar’s cum all day and is starving. He realizes this as a servant follows the King inside with a tray of food. The boar waves them off, unbuttons the top of his jacket, disrobes partially, and then settles into a chair.

Felix tries not to stare at the food, but the smell of it is overwhelming. He lucks out when Dimitri notices, he seems more amused than angry. “Have you eaten yet?” he asks as if he doesn’t fucking know the answer.

Felix shakes his head. It’s easier to be docile and hold his tongue the less he says. His instinct is still to threaten, insult, and cajole.

Dimitri gestures him forward until Felix is settled by his feet. A broad hand comes to stroke Felix’s hair again, as the other brings a piece of meat to his lips.

Felix eats it, but doesn’t have the stomach to lap around the pad of the boar’s thumb and tease him as he likes… not now that he knows what mood the beast is in.

Felix would take the cruelest moods over the rare soft days. Dimitri stroking his hair, feeding him, looking at him fondly. All of it stings and is the reason he hesitated the last time. The chance that _his_ Dimitri, the real Dimitri, was still beneath the layers of that beast had weakened Felix into stupidity. He knew better now.

It didn’t stop him from relaxing into the gentle touches or the wine Dimitri sipped and then brought to Felix’s own lips.

After, Dimitri undid the other chains. Felix’s ankles were free. A fact that should have given him pleasure, if not for the knowledge of what it meant when Dimitri took him to bed.

Being fucked into a pillow all night was preferable to Dimitri staring at him while he took his pleasure, forcing Felix to pretend he was enjoying it as well.

Felix tries to look at the positives of Dimitri’s mood. It meant he is letting his guard down. The King taking his personal plaything to the bath meant he wasn’t worried about Felix attempting to drown him. It would have been foolish to even think of trying, but the Tempest King hadn’t stayed alive this long by not expecting attacks when he was vulnerable.

The water is warmer than Felix would like and he can feel the boar’s cock hardening against his back, but instead of rutting against him or taking him against the side of the tub, Dimitri washes his hair and draws his fingers over Felix’s shoulders and down his back in a way that makes him shiver.

“It’s been some time since I’ve had to punish you,” Dimitri says, pressed close enough that he must feel the way Felix instinctively stiffens.

A dark chuckle and then the boar’s hand curls around Felix’s cock. Felix doesn’t fight the gasp. Whatever mood Dimitri is in, he prefers reactions. Felix finds it difficult to be aroused at the moment, considering the things the boar has done with that hand.

“Any comment on that, Felix?” Dimitri asks, tightening his hand only slightly.

“No,” Felix says. Then when that doesn’t seem like the right answer, based on the squeeze he gets, asks, “Do you want a reason to?”

Felix is pulled back against the beast’s chest, quickly enough that water splashes over the sides. Dimitri wraps him in an embrace that feels nothing close to safe and says into his ear, “You already gave me a reason, Felix. Or have you forgotten betraying your homeland for a monstrous bitch and her useless hordes?”

“Other than that,” Felix says, because as hard as he’s been trying to be docile, he can’t fucking help it.

For once luck is on his side and the laugh in his ear sounds genuine and the crushing embrace loosens with it. Felix doesn’t press his luck any further to point out that every moment he’s here is punishment enough.

It also doesn’t make him regret leaving for a second. It was the right choice. Faerghus’s King was more than mad and Felix was the only one who saw it.

The beast’s hands roam again, finding Felix’s skin under the water and dragging up the inside of his thighs in a way that makes Felix’s breath catch. He’s starting to respond to it, even as much as it revolts him.

“Your skin holds marks so beautifully,” Dimitri says. “You’ve been so well-behaved I haven’t needed to leave many.”

Felix would argue that the bruises and bite marks he leaves and the aching soreness in his throat and ass would disagree, but bites his tongue.

“What do you think?” Dimitri asks, while he pinches the sensitive nub of Felix’s nipple, achieving another hitched breath.

“I…” Felix has no idea what he’s supposed to say, only that he’s supposed to say _something_. The mercurial quality of these moods means the beast could turn a kiss into a snarl at any wrong move. “I don’t,” he settles on.

“I found it cathartic on occasion,” Dimitri says, no indication as to whether that was the correct answer or not. “I may need to whip you again.”

Felix stiffens and his heart races. He remembers the welts, the sores, and the ache before Dimitri had finally allowed him to be healed enough to be used again. His voice is small and pathetic and he hates it, “Please don’t.”

Dimitri noses affectionately into his hair. “The riding crop or even my hand,” he says, amusing himself. “I want you to sing, not scream this time.”

As humiliating as the times where Dimitri literally put him over his knee were, it was preferable to being literally whipped or flogged. “If… that’s what you want,” Felix says, his voice only trembling through the first few words.

The boar doesn’t reassure him one way or another. He leisures the rest of the time in the tub, toying with Felix’s hair, feeling his skin, tweaking his nipples, and fingering him open. Felix tries to relax. It hurts so much less when he does, but he cannot help but tense once Dimitri lifts him out of the tub, smile fond as he towels him off.

He doesn’t take Felix to bed. Instead he puts Felix into an arm chair, his face towards the back. The angle gives Felix full view of the mirror and he lowers his head. A sharp smack lands against his ass at that and Felix winces.

Dimitri tugs hard at Felix’s hair until he lifts his head again and their eyes meet in the mirror. At least the soft affection is gone from the boar’s face. “Stay,” he says. And Felix does.

The boar adjusts Felix again, so that his thighs are spread wide on the seat cushion and his arms hang over the back of the chair. Felix grips it to stay steady, watching Dimitri’s movements in the mirror rather than his own.

The boar is staring at his ass with a raised brow and quirked lips. From the sting and Dimitri’s face, Felix assumes he’s admiring his own fucking handprint.

Felix tries to relax again, but it’s more difficult being exposed like this and having to watch Dimitri’s every movement behind him and his own reaction to it reflected back at him. The boar brings a vial over and wets his fingers before thrusting them inside Felix.

Felix forces himself to go limp. He’s grateful the beast actually slicked them, rather than taking him dry, or making Felix spit slick his fingers and cock before opening him up.

“I should leave you open,” Dimitri says, pulling Felix’s hair again to make him look at the mirror. It burns against his scalp. “Shove a model of my cock there and keep you stretched for me… but then you wouldn’t be… So Tight.” He emphasizes the last two words by scissoring his fingers.

The boar has done that before. Left Felix face down on the bed, stretched open by a glass phallus, waiting to be used during the day whenever the beast felt like it.

Felix thinks he’d rather feel the sting of the riding crop again.

Felix is glad he’s forced himself to go limp, because the beast barely prepares him before his cock starts to split him open. Felix’s fingers grip tightly at the back of the chair and he shuts his eyes against the feeling. Being filled isn’t… unpleasant, but it is always overwhelming.

Another slap, harder this time, lands on Felix’s ass, when Dimitri is only halfway in. Felix gets the point and opens his eyes. He looks at Dimitri in the mirror, but when Dimitri meets his eyes, he grabs Felix’s chin and drags it down until Felix is watching himself get slowly fucked into the chair.

“I know you’re not tamed yet,” Dimitri says as his cock draws completely inside and his hips lie flush against Felix’s stinging ass.

Felix shamefully watches as his own face broadcasts his fear that Dimitri has found him out. There’s no way he could have. Felix hasn’t said or done anything to indicate what he was doing, but something about the way the boar says it makes Felix feel like he does know.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dimitri says and grinds his hips so that his cock stretches and shifts inside Felix, drawing out a helpless moan.

“Why?” Felix asks, trying to read the beast’s face as he pulls out and then thrusts back in again.

The only thing Felix sees is hunger, as Dimitri fucks him against the chair. “You’ve always been mine, Felix. You always will be.”

The warmth that floods Felix from those words is humiliating and he sees it on his face in the mirror as a blush covers his skin. _I own you. I control you_. Dimitri doesn’t say. This time.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Felix wakes up with Dimitri’s softened cock still inside. He has the beast’s arms thrown around him and is surprised he was able to sleep at all. He can’t move without alerting Dimitri and Felix doesn’t want to wake him up, so he stays in bed, listlessly staring at the wall.

It’s not much longer before he feels the cock inside of him start to harden. Felix isn’t even sure if Dimitri is fully awake or not as his lazily ruts his hips against Felix’s ass. It’s… unfortunately not unpleasant. Felix bites his lip, but is unable to completely catch the soft whine that leaves his tongue.

Dimitri’s hips grind harder now and Felix can feel himself responding. Part of him hopes Dimitri is asleep, will rut himself out and then free Felix from his grip. The other part of him really wants Dimitri to keep moving inside him.

The next whine that escapes is more of a moan and if Dimitri wasn’t awake, he is now. He’s always been a light sleeper. Felix is pulled back farther into Dimitri’s arms, back flush with the Tempest King’s chest. Dimitri’s hips however move backwards and then thrust back inside, only hard enough to arouse Felix further. The next noise is a whimper and it’s too early for Felix to hate himself for it.

Dimitri’s mouth is on his neck, kissing up the column of marked skin there as he slowly draws his cock in and out of Felix. The speed increases slowly. On their sides like this Dimitri can’t really pound into Felix, so each thrust ends with a grind and one of his hands grips Felix’s hip with purpose to angle him upwards.

Felix isn’t sure what the point of it is until Dimitri thrusts in again and he sees stars behind his eyes. He’s moaning now, horrible salacious moans that he’ll hate himself for later. The moment, this moment, all Felix can think about is getting Dimitri to hit that angle again. He hears the moans turn to begging from a haze as his own hips work with the small bit of freedom Dimitri’s hold allows and try to meet the next thrust.

Dimitri doesn’t say anything, but he responds by doing it again, until the nerve endings of Felix’s skin are on fire. Felix tries to reach for his own cock, even though he should know better but the haze of morning and the arousal of Dimitri’s erection continually rubbing and edging his prostate makes him stupid.

Dimitri grabs both of Felix’s hands in one of his own and squeezes them, a shade beneath painful. “No,” he says and Felix’s responding whine is so pitiful he tries to bury his head in the pillow hide from himself.

“Please,” Felix says, because Dimitri is still going at the same pace and has the stamina of a beast in heat. He’d rather be fucked after he’s spent and limp then hang here, so close to coming for however long it takes for the beast to finish.

“No,” Dimitri says again and jerks his hips hard so that his cock hits perfectly and Felix wails. “Cum when I tell you,” he growls.

Felix is too overwrought to have any shame for the tears that start to prick his eyes. He’s been beaten, fucked dry, and a million other painful embarrassments since he was taken here, without shedding a single tear. _Now_ , with Dimitri slowly fucking him, holding his hands to his own chest, and kissing his jaw, Felix feels tears.

Dimitri’s made him cum before. His body can’t help but respond sometimes. Not to mention… the first night, which Felix hates thinking about more than _anything_ else. Something feels different this morning. Felix isn’t sure if it’s not having to look the boar in the eye or the words he said last night, still rolling through his mind.

Mine. Dimitri said. _Mine_.

Felix wonders if this is what it feels like to finally be broken. Thoughts of escape, of pride, of trying to get this over with as quickly as possible, flee his mind. All he can do is beg, sob, and listen to Dimitri’s grunted breaths against his neck.

By the time Dimitri tells him to cum, Felix is so wound up, he obeys and immediately does. Dimitri barely finishes another thrust before he’s coming too, spurting more cum into Felix, that practically spills out in a squelch when it meets the rest of last night’s load.

A few harried breaths against Felix’s neck (a small victory, Dimitri is at least as shaken from his orgasm as Felix) and then Dimitri slides out of him.

Felix barely manages to swallow the whimper. He feels used, but also empty. Dimitri had been inside him all night and now he was gone. Something about that makes Felix want to cry again, but the haze of arousal has left him and he has the self preservation to swallow the impulse.

Dimitri turns Felix onto his back and then leans over him. His smile is small, satisfied, and smug, as he kisses Felix once and says, “Good boy.”

Felix shuts his eyes, ignores the way he’s been trained to react to it, the praise heating up his skin again. The beast’s dark chuckle is all Felix hears.

Then he’s alone in bed. Felix cracks his eyes open to see Dimitri padding about his own chambers, stretching his arms up, muscled and scarred skin pulling tightly there. Dimitri disappears into the baths and for a horrible, relieved second Felix actually thinks he’ll leave him in bed, untied for the day.

It was foolish and Felix regrets the thought as Dimitri comes back out, holding a wet cloth. He’s methodical in cleaning Felix out, smiling as every drop of his own seed releases from inside Felix.

The reverence in which Dimitri looks Felix over is as terrifying as it is uncomfortable. Felix doesn’t know what to do with himself and he has to grip his hands into the sheets to resist the urge to cover himself.

“Get dressed,” Dimitri says. “You’re coming with me today.”

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Dimitri doesn’t chain Felix up again, confident that he won’t run. It would be pointless to run. Felix wouldn’t get fair and wouldn’t go unnoticed in the blue silks that barely covered him that Dimitri insisted he wear. Felix sometimes doesn’t know if he’s a whore or a war prize, but he prefers not having to think about it.

It’s more difficult to do that when Dimitri takes him out. There are stares. It’s been months since Felix has been let out of Dimitri’s room. Felix didn’t like people staring at him before this happened, so he certainly doesn’t appreciate it now.

The Tempest King’s day is surprisingly mundane. Felix has no purpose beyond walking behind him, sitting at his feet, and being a convenient fuck when Dimitri gets bored looking over paperwork.

Dimitri rips the silks easily, but even if Felix were wearing leather hide, he could do the same.It only takes one hand on Felix’s neck to keep him down. The weight of it is immovable and forces Felix to stay, bent over his folded legs, head on the floor, hair sprawled over his sides. He clenches his fists at his temples as Dimitri fucks him. The King’s other hand rests lightly on Felix’s back, scratching marks until it reaches his hip and then trailing up again, an unnerving distraction from the thick royal dick slamming into him.

There’s arousal, but it isn’t like this morning, so Felix ignores it and counts off the number of breaths Dimitri pants to distract himself. Finally, with a slam hard enough to rock Felix forward on the floor, Dimitri finishes.

“Hm,” Dimitri says, once he pulls out and presumably sits back since the weight on Felix’s neck has disappeared.

Felix turns his head only slightly, but he can’t see through the curtain of his own hair.

“Sit up,” Dimitri orders, and smacks Felix hard on each cheek when he takes a second too long to push himself up to sitting. “Your clothes are ruined,” Dimitri says to Felix once he’s sat back.

Felix turns his head to him. He doesn’t say _what the fuck do you want me to do about it_ , but he is certain some of it shows on his face, because the beast growls and grabs Felix’s hair twisting painfully so that Felix has to turn around completely.

“Your clothes are ruined,” Dimitri repeats, hand still knotted in Felix’s hair.

Felix has no idea what the fuck Dimitri wants him to say. The boar’s eyes are dark and the mood he’s shifting into doesn’t indicate anything good. The most inane thing spills out of Felix’s mouth before he can stop himself, “I can’t sew.”

The beast pauses and then sighs, dropping Felix’s hair and shoving him unceremoniously to the floor. “You aren’t walking around naked,” Dimitri says.

Even with an apathetic shove, the boar’s strength knocks Felix’s head against the stone floor, so he manages to hold back any response to that. Which is good, since all he can think about is why the fuck does Dimitri even care? Considering how many times he’s fucked Felix on the throne alone, modesty doesn’t seem like the Tempest King’s highest priority.

The door opens and Felix looks up, but doesn’t chance lifting himself off from where Dimitri put him. Dimitri’s back is to him and he’s talking to someone on the other side of the door. The bunched shredded silks in his grip are handed off to that someone.

Dimitri closes the door again, looks to his desk still full of paperwork and gives a labored sigh. “Sit up,” he says, without looking at Felix.

Felix tries to go faster this time in getting to his knees and must manage it, because Dimitri doesn’t punish him further.

The boar sighs again and lifts the jacket he was wearing earlier from its hook and comes to place it around Felix’s shoulders. “Don’t give me that look,” Dimitri chides and Felix tries to smooth out his expression with little success.

The boar sighs yet again as if Felix is also paperwork and then goes back to his desk. He taps his quill against the wood and grunts. “It would be easier and more satisfying to burn what’s left of Adrestia rather than deal with this.”

Felix doesn’t know if it would be _easier_ but he doesn’t doubt the boar would appreciate the violence and suffering. Dimitri’s eyes flick towards him and then he gestures with two fingers. Felix pulls the jacket around his naked arms tighter and follows command.

Thankfully, Dimitri only means to settle him next to his legs, so he can play with his hair. Felix feels like a fucking pet when he does this, but it seems a pointless thing to complain over in the grand scheme of things.

Someone returns later with another ridiculous fucking piece of fabric that barely covers Felix and food. Dimitri is too distracted by the scroll he’s working on to pay much attention and merely hands a plate of food to Felix, continuing to stroke his hair soon after.

Felix doesn’t rush to get dressed. Dimitri’s jacket is far warmer than the whore’s dress he’s been brought and it reminds him of wearing actual clothes. Hours pass before Dimitri gets up again, he spares Felix a sideways glance and leaves it at that as he leaves his office. Felix dresses himself then, but keeps the jacket on, since he isn’t sure where else to put it.

The gaudy fabric barely covers Felix’s chest and certainly does nothing for his legs. He’s lucky it covers his ass and cock with how flimsy the material is. If Dimitri wanted something he couldn’t rip, this is the opposite.

Maybe he’d get a headache and leave Felix alone for the rest of the day. Dimitri came back in, eyeing Felix in a way that made it clear he would not be leaving Felix alone and then pulled Felix up to his feet. Dimitri adjusted the fabric here and there and then took his jacket back, sliding his own arms back through it.

Felix ignored the goose pimples that dragged over his now bared arms. Maybe it wasn’t summer. Maybe it was fall.

The rest of the day remains tedious and Felix feels decorative. He doesn’t know why until he sees the minor lords Dimitri had mentioned, all looking nervously in his direction. Felix was on show then. Proof that no betrayal or displeasure to their king went unpunished.

He stopped being humiliated by that months ago. At least Felix had fought and _tried_. If he’d stayed…

Felix breathes out and tries not to think of the husk in Dimitri’s voice when he said that Felix had _always_ been his.

He is offered a distraction soon enough. Dimitri realizes his next route is the stables and either cares about the state of Felix’s bare feet (unlikely) or doesn’t want his plaything smelling like dung (likely, although a beast might prefer that Felix only thinks to himself)—he orders Felix brought back to his chambers.

Felix knows the guards who chain him. One of them he grew up with, they even squired with his father. Felix doesn’t look at him as the manacle at his ankle snaps into place. “Coward,” Felix says, once they’re gone.

He doesn’t know who he’s talking to anymore.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Felix dosed off at some point and awakens to the door slamming. He sits up as quickly as possible, kneeling again, as the boar’s thunderous boot stomps make their way through. He has a riding crop in his hand and Felix swallows a hard lump.

Dimitri tosses the crop aside, throwing it on the bed and looks Felix over critically. “Were you sleeping?”

“Yes,” Felix says, because he’s not stupid enough to think of lying.

“You’re a mess,” the boar says and throws a key at Felix, rather than taking anything off himself. “Brush your hair and undress,” he calls back and then disappears into the other rooms.

Felix’s hand shakes as he takes the manacles and chains off himself. He stares at the key, examining every inch and thinking about the brief moments of Ashe teaching him how to open a lock. It is difficult, but not impossible to ignore the swirling cage of emotions around that memory, so Felix does and then makes sure to brush his hair and undress before the boar returns.

He puts the key next to the hairbrush right as Dimitri re-enters. He’s changed his clothes… if Felix hated him less, he’d think him handsome.

Dimitri looks Felix over and seems pleased, which is not necessarily a good thing. “Come here,” he says.

Felix walks towards him, trying to ignore the crop in his periphery. Dimitri cradles Felix’s head in his hands and draws his thumb over his lower lip. “Do you remember what I told you yesterday?”

 _Mine_. Felix’s traitorous brain thinks immediately. But he knows better, the hunger in the boar’s eyes isn’t for Felix, it’s for violence. He steadies his voice. “You wanted me to sing.”

Dimitri’s smile is a mimicry of his real one. He rewards Felix’s answer with a kiss and then tells him how to arrange himself on the bed. Felix drapes himself over two pillows, hips and ass lifted into the air as a perfect target.

“I’ve been advised to ‘blow off steam’” Dimitri says—it sounds like a painfully familiar phrase that twists its betrayal into Felix’s chest.

Felix is glad his head is facing the sheets. He manages to get the next words out mostly flat. “Is this a punishment?”

“Mm,” Dimitri says and Felix feels the leather of the riding crop trace over the skin of his thighs and tap his balls lightly. “No. I feel… grateful, really, to have such an enjoyable outlet for my stressors.”

So does any fool who pissed him off, Felix thinks. Better Felix’s skin than theirs, he is sure.

“You’re welcome,” Felix mutters to himself.

It doesn’t matter if Dimitri hears him or not, he hears something and the whistling of the crop through the air is Felix’s only warning before a stripe of pain blossoms across the highest point of his ass. It is difficult not to tense up, but Felix knows that only makes it worse, so he clenches only his hands and tries not to bite his tongue as the crop continues to come down.

It hurts, but it could be worse, it _has_ been worse so Felix breathes through it. Whatever his momentary lapse this morning, it’s faded and he winces and takes a few shuddering breaths at the sharp whip of the crop against one cheek and then immediately the other, but he doesn’t feel the urge to cry. Dimitri isn’t holding back much, but Felix doesn’t feel the crop smack his back, and so he tries to be grateful when pain lances against his thighs instead. He knows his back heals much slower.

There’s a pause between whips. Felix is going to have a fucking hell of a time sitting tomorrow. Now that the crop has stopped its assault he can focus on the pain without distraction and it overwhelms.

Felix feels the leather tracing over his upraised, welted skin, and Dimitri’s pleased hum makes him want to scream. It taps at his ball sack again and Felix steels himself in case that’s Dimitri’s next target, but he merely traces it, drawing long languid lines until Felix’s cock starts to respond.

 _Fuck_. Felix shifts slightly on the pillow as he starts to harden unbidden. “You mark up so beautifully, Felix,” Dimitri says before beginning the assault again.

Felix grits his teeth, stubbornly refusing to make any pained noises, but each mark that Dimitri crosses over with another stripe of pain hurts more.

Finally, Dimitri stops. Felix sees him walk to the front of the bed, still holding the riding crop. He’s rolled his sleeves up and his hair has come undone. There’s a mania in his eyes that could shift in any possible direction.

Felix’s voice is a little shaky when he asks, “Feel better, Your Majesty?” Fucking boar.

Dimitri chuckles and soon after, the crop is set aside and Felix is picked up and rearranged so that he’s prone over Dimitri’s lap, where he sits up against the headboard. Felix tries to bury his face in his hair again. This is one humiliation he still has trouble overcoming.

The riding crop stings, but Dimitri’s hand furiously smacking over the marks, hurts far worse. Felix tries his best to stay in place and stay silent, but Dimitri grasps his hair with his free hand and pulls at the same time his other hand spanks a flame over the already sore marks and Felix can’t help but cry out.

Then Dimitri switches tactics. The scratch of Dimitri’s fingers over the heated, marked skin, also hurts but drags unwanted warmth from Felix’s core and draws out a groan. A groan Dimitri can hear easily with Felix’s head pulled back like this.

Felix’s flushes hard and Dimitri chuckles as he continues, alternating spanks with scratches, bringing Felix’s cock up and half hard again. Dimitri’s _been_ hard, pressed up against Felix’s side the second he was thrown over his lap. When the boar stops, ages later, there’s a mixture of pain and a flush of pleasure running through Felix’s entire lower half.

The beast wastes no time in lifting Felix up, freeing his own cock, and then dragging Felix onto it. Felix’s still slightly loose from earlier (and had time before he fell asleep to finger himself open just in case), but the stretch and burn inside as well as out overwhelms Felix until he’s shaking, fully seated on Dimitri’s cock.

The palm of Dimitri’s hand is red, which is little concession compared to the throbbing pain of Felix’s ass and what it must look like. He places it on Felix’s face and makes Felix look at him. The mania, the beast, the _boar_ is all that’s in Dimitri’s eyes. “It would have been so much different if you’d stayed,” Dimitri says and he sounds… almost pleased with the way it worked out.

Felix can’t turn his head with Dimitri holding it but shuts his eyes. Dimitri sighs impatiently and squeezes Felix’s bruised thigh until he opens them again. “Move,” Dimitri orders, looking less pleased.

Felix obeys. There’s a burn in and on his thighs as he moves, but he does his best to position himself and go fast enough that the displeasure smooths out of Dimitri’s face. On a sharp exhale from the boar, Felix risks putting his hands on his shoulders for leverage. He gets a pleased growl in response that goes straight to his own cock which is pressed up against Dimitri’s stomach. It’s impossible not to notice it as is the flare of possessiveness that appears on Dimitri’s face in response for being the cause.

Dimitri kisses him as he rides him, mouth open, hot and demanding. Felix can’t help aiming for his own pleasure now that he’s hard. His cock rubs up against the cotton of Dimitri’s top and he’s too lost in the mix of pain and arousal to think about consequences of staining it.

For his part, the boar doesn’t seem to notice, too lost in grunts, growls between kisses and furious bites to every inch of Felix’s neck he can find. Felix finds a climax for the second time that day and like this morning, Dimitri barely lasts long enough to thrust up into him once before he fills Felix with his seed.

Dimitri pants and tightens his grip on Felix, breathing out hard and nuzzling his nose into the places where he’s marked up Felix’s neck. Then he looks down at his shirt and frowns at Felix. The frown is moderate and thankfully accompanied by the strong ease that the boar is feeling now that he’s sated all his urges, violent or not.

Felix is deposited back onto the bed, wincing as the abused flesh of his ass and thighs touches the sheets. Dimitri tugs his shirt off and then finishes underdressing. Felix isn’t expecting to be picked up again, but doesn’t think he can stand so isn’t unappreciative as Dimitri takes them to a drawn bath.

The water is warm and sets Felix’s skin on fire all over again and a “Fuck,” slips out before Felix can stop it. Dimitri doesn’t react to it thankfully, and after a few burning moments it evens out into something tolerable.

Dimitri examines Felix’s skin, pressing his fingers over every mark he’s left with his teeth, hands, and the riding crop. He’s hard against Felix’s back by the time he’s done. An inane thought pops into Felix’s head as Dimitri pulls him onto his thickening cock again… Crests really were a curse, because there was no other reason for the beast’s constant stamina.

Felix lets the boar do whatever he wants without much reaction, too tired and sore to participate beyond being a hole to fuck and skin to mark more.

He sleeps on his stomach that night and suffers through Dimitri’s reverent awe over the marks in the morning.


	2. anything else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the tempest king grows crueler, and felix tries to find escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **content warnings please read** non-con/dub-con; violence; basically a lot of beating up on felix
> 
> click the end note for more specific warnings

It takes a week for the marks to heal completely. Felix is worried Dimitri will immediately want to put them back, but the next few days go by with nothing more than his usual indifferent cruelty. It doesn’t last long after that, however.

Felix isn’t privy to whatever new governance has the boar in a pissy mood, but he’s victim to it. It’s clarifying to be treated like an object, fucked into the mattress, with no thought of his ability to breathe while pushed into the sheets.

Felix clings to those moments, reminds himself, so that nothing like the last time can happen again.

When fucking Felix’s ass and throat doesn’t work to curb his mood, Dimitri spanks him. It’s painful and humiliating, which has to be why he enjoys himself. The boar enjoys himself so much he does it on the throne twice. Felix has been fucked here more times than that, hands gripped on the ornate metal lions carved into each armrest, while Dimitri fucked him hard and gripped his hips painfully, ordering him to say ‘Your Majesty’ again and again. Being spanked here, his legs pressed between the King’s own and his naked ass exposed to the entire throne room (no matter if its empty this time) is somehow so much worse.

The Tempest King’s Crest activates more than once while his hand beats down on the tender skin of Felix’s backside. It’s excruciating in the moment and then a dull pain afterwards. It leaves bruises. When Dimitri decides he wants a fresh canvas, he uses healing oils and works out the sting to start all over again.

One of these times, Felix is at least over Dimitri’s desk and not his lap. A small concession, even though it’s as familiar a position from his childhood, except the boar doesn’t use a paddle and hits thrice as hard. The beast’s hand is a flat piece of wood all on its own and Felix tries each time not to cry out, but is rarely successful when the beast is in a mood like this. The smack cracks through the air before the bloom of pain spreads out from each targeted cheek. Felix is sore and tired by the time Dimitri finally slows. The boar’s breath is harried and he squeezes a cheek in his hands, rolling them in each palm.

There’s another slap, not as hard as earlier, followed by kneading of Felix’s cheeks. Dimitri _has_ oil in his office, but instead he leans over Felix, roughly jerks his head to the side and brings two fingers to his mouth. Felix obediently sucks on them. He just wants to get this over with.

The boar’s eyes are wild as he watches Felix slather spit and work his tongue the way he does on the King’s cock onto royal fingers. There’s a thumb that comes up and traces Felix’s jaw. Dimitri takes his spit slicked fingers back and Felix has little warning before they’re thrust inside him. He hadn’t been taken this morning, so Felix is tight and the burn is on the edge of painful. It seems no matter how many times the boar takes his pleasure with his disturbingly large member, Felix always closes up again.

Judging by the drawn out moan the beast makes as he sheaths himself inside Felix, he’s happy with that result. Felix presses his head to the hard wood of the desk and tries to will himself to relax. It helps that he’s tired, somehow the humiliation of getting spanked paired with the pain, tires him more than any actual activity the boar subjects him to.

He’s not expecting Dimitri’s hand around his own cock and Felix lets out a sharp gasp. Dimitri thumbs the head, grips tightly and pumps it as he slowly fucks in sync. Felix shuts his eyes, heedless of the consequences, and feels the overwhelming heat move from his punished skin to deep in his stomach.

It’s not long before he’s hard and Dimitri continues to stroke him. “Imagine,” the beast says, “you could’ve been my right hand if you hadn’t betrayed me for that—”

There’s a knock on the office door, while Dimitri’s halfway inside again. He lets out a brutally loud grunt and smacks Felix’s sore skin after he pulls out. Felix almost falls off the desk.

He’s relieved Dimitri seems to be answering the door, rather than letting someone see him get fucked again. Lately he doesn’t seem to want an audience and Felix isn’t sure why.

Whatever the person says, it darkens the boar’s face even further and Felix tries not to tremble on the desk, as Dimitri slams the door closed and walks back towards him. There’s no hand around his cock this time, just Dimitri fucking Felix hard against the desk, so that the wood smashes into his abdomen at the same time the King’s cock fills him.

He mutters things as he goes, slamming harder and harder until Felix is seconds from begging him to stop even knowing how fruitless that is. The things the beast say don’t even relate to Felix, they’re about road restrictions, refusal of trade routes, _demands_ of his time.

Finally, the boar finishes. Felix is sore, sticky, and does actually fall when Dimitri pulls out this time. The boar doesn’t catch him and so Felix falls right onto his sore ass and cries out without thinking.

Dimitri looks down at him, as if he’s noticing him for the first time. The placid calm that had overtaken him after orgasm disappears and he retreats to a darker place. “I suppose you think you can have something from me as well now?”

Felix shakes his head, but it doesn’t matter. Dimitri drags him up to standing by his hair and shoves him towards the window. He presses Felix against the glass. “They’re setting up new ones,” the beast says, with a delighted laugh.

Felix can’t see, because his face is squished against the glass. Dimitri huffs in annoyance and releases Felix’s hair. Felix glances out at the way Dimitri indicated and sees them setting up gibbets with nooses.

“We tracked down some more traitors,” Dimitri said, his fingers scratching painfully down Felix’s back in a horrible imitation of the times he’s stroked his skin there. “Maybe they were friends of yours. Maybe I’ll take you down to watch.” The beast pinches at Felix’s skin. “Maybe I’ll put you up there too?”

Good. Felix wants to say. End it. Let him go out like a man defeated and not… this…

But Dimitri sighs, somewhat mollified and then drags Felix back from the window. He sets Felix between his legs as he sits down at the desk he’d just fucked Felix on. His cock is still out, but it’s not hard, but Felix understands what he’s there for.

He goes to work, mouthing and licking until Dimitri’s cock starts to stir and doesn’t think about which of his friends those nooses might be for.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Dimitri’s hand holds one of Felix’s legs and he pushes it in towards Felix’s torso, further each time he fucks in deeper.

The boar is in a soft mood, which Felix wasn’t expecting, since he’s been so frustrated by things Felix isn’t privy to (but feels the result of all the same). Felix hates these moods usually, but this one is a reprieve from a string of much harder nights. Felix lets himself be stretched and pressed into deeper, as Dimitri’s cock fills him again and again, close to even enjoying the pace.

The beast’s teeth scrape across Felix’s jaw and there is a husk in his voice that should’ve been a warning. “Enjoying yourself?”

Felix tries to steady himself against the headboard as Dimitri fucks into him again and nods, hoping that’s answer enough. It isn’t, of course.Dimitri scrapes his nails down Felix’s chest, landing on his nipple and getting the moan he was aiming for.

“Mm, like that first night?” Dimitri says, as he’s pressed against Felix, pinning him to the bed, impaled on his royal cock. Even if he could break free of the cage of the beast’s arms, Felix couldn’t flee speared like this.

He squirms and tries anyway, useless. “Don’t,” he says, miserably. Felix hates the first night. Hates thinking about it and misses Dimitri’s foul mood immediately when he realizes what the bastard is doing.

Dimitri’s hand is on Felix’s leg tracing down his thigh and he keeps fucking him as he talks into Felix’s neck. “You were so pliant and so very tight as I took you.”

“Stop,” Felix says, useless. He turns his head away and Dimitri keeps talking.

“I was enraged, Felix,” he says, pounding into Felix and then slowing his pace. “So upset with you for your betrayal. I wanted to carve it out into your skin.”

Felix wishes he had.

“Then you flinched,” Dimitri says, with a laugh full of wonder. “I hadn’t broken you in nearly enough for that, you were still proud, defiant, unruly… then I knew…”

“Fucking stop it, boar,” Felix says and futilely tries to hit Dimitri as hard as he can, hoping to gain his ire again if he can’t get him off.

Dimitri takes Felix’s hands like they’re nothing and grips them in one hand of his own. “What did I know, Felix?” he asks.

“Fuck you,” Felix says, catching his breath and trying not to groan and Dimitri starts dragging his cock inside.

Dimitri’s grip on Felix’s wrists tightens painfully. Break them, Felix thinks out of nowhere. Maybe then he’d have to stop, but why would he stop? A beast never stops.

“What did I know, Felix?” Dimitri asks again fucking into Felix hard this time.

Felix shuts his eyes, shakes his head, and whines when Dimitri’s free hand squeezes his cock. Asking again and testing his own patience doesn't seem enough for the boar’s goals so he keeps speaking. “I knew you’d never been taken. Never been truly touched. No one but me’s had you, isn’t that right, Felix?”

Dimitri starts stroking him and Felix cannot help but respond to it as his royal cock stretches inside him. “I hate you,” Felix says. He knows what he said that first night was different.

“Whose are you, Felix?” Dimitri asks, continuing to draw Felix to the edge of completion and then stops. Felix ignores him and his fucking tricks. Tries to ride this out. He knows it’s pointless and he should just tell the beast what he wants to hear but it’s more humiliating than getting turned over his knee.

Dimitri had been kind that first night. Gentle. He’d been exactly how Felix had pictured he would be when he was young and foolish enough to think that his Dimitri would come back from Duscur.

“Whose are you, Felix?” Dimitri says again, a little harsher this time as he shifts the bed with the force of his thrust. It nearly knocks Felix into the headboard, but Dimitri still has hold of his hands. The beast strokes him to completion, wringing the orgasm out of his body easily when he tries. He’s still fucking Felix when he asks, again and again, “Whose are you?”

“Yours,” Felix says, finally. He’s too tired to fight, tears sting his eyes. Dimitri cums, satisfied, and heavy against him.

“Mine,” the beast agrees, and presses marks into Felix’s skin to emphasize it.

 _I hate you_. Felix thinks again and sobs.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

By Felix’s estimation, it’s been at least four (maybe closer to five) months since his last attempt at escape before he’s able to make another one. The weather has started to cool enough that he knows if he doesn’t try again now, he’ll have to suffer through another winter.

The Tempest King has been in a terrible mood for weeks. Felix goes to bed with it, wakes up with it, and more often than not gets dragged into rooms to be an outlet for it. The beast woke up, marginally less shitty this morning. Felix enthusiastically sucked his cock, while the boar stroked his hair and ate his breakfast. Then he left.

And Felix tries again.

His father’s former squire is the one that comes to deliver food. Felix has noticed he likes to leer. He uses that to his advantage. Before this Felix never thought of the use or purpose of being seductive or alluring. He wouldn’t have ascribed either of those categories to himself even if he’d wanted them. Spending so much time pleasing the boar meant he’d learned. He’d had to.

Felix lets the fabric around his arms drop as he moves forward to get the plate. The guard’s eyes are on him and he uses the excuse of Felix moving too far forward to grab his hands and push him back, feeling bare skin in the process. The asshole should’ve been wearing gloves. Felix could’ve used gloves and the feel of someone touching him that isn't the boar makes his skin crawl.

It takes less than a minute to kill him. Felix wildly thinks about how disappointed his father would be in the showing of one of his squires. He shoves the thought away and makes as quick of work as possible getting out of his restraints with the small bits and pieces of iron he’s been able to find—one of them works, and then Felix takes the clothes off the body of the dead man and dresses himself.

He locks the door to the king’s chambers. If it’s locked from the inside it is difficult (though not impossible) get through. With luck they’ll think the guard is having his way with the king’s pet and take too long deciding if they’ll report on him and then which of them is the unlucky fool who gets to do it.

Felix climbs out the window. It isn’t snowing yet and thankfully not the rainy season either, so he manages to get to the next closest room. He’s passed this before. It’s a small sitting room, barely used, as no one would want to sit so close to the king these days. Felix gets in. He leaves the castle without a problem. He’d tucked his hair in and grabbed a hood as soon as possible, but even before that, no one noticed. Apparently being paraded around as the king’s pet whore, made him unrecognizable dressed in clothes.

Felix gets into town. He wants to celebrate, to cry out in relief, but he knows he’s not done. He has to make it out of town and into the forest. If he can get that far, he’s free. He’s done it. He’ll never have to be in that hell again. Someone else can choke on the beast’s cock for breakfast.

The thought bothers Felix, but he doesn’t examine why as he makes his way past stall after stall, the market square behind him, and then finally near the gates.

Felix makes it to the woods, but he doesn’t get far enough and forgot that the boar had hunting dogs. There’s no upside to the pain of punishment. No one really cares he killed a guard. The Tempest King cares that he tried to run again, disobey, rebel. It reminds him that Felix isn’t his and it makes him furious, enraged.

Felix isn’t sure how long it goes on, or when its even over. His back feels like it’s festering, he can smell his own blood, and one of his eyes feels like it’s slightly out of the socket if that’s possible. Dimitri put a mirror in front of him, he tries not to look at it to check. It’s easy enough with how clouded his vision is. That’s maybe not only his injuries. There’s no focus to the pain, no sense. There’s nothing but suffering.

And when it passes, because it will pass. The beast’ll use him again. And it’ll be even harder to escape. Impossible. Maybe it always was.

Felix wishes he’d fallen when he scaled the window. At least then it would be over.

He thinks about that long enough that when he’s finally brought food, he stares at the citrus fruit rolling on the floor. It’s old and mealy and Felix doesn’t care. It’s difficult to maneuver, but he manages and throws it hard enough with what little range and reach he has with his new binds. It hits the mirror, which lands and shatters.

 _Seven years of bad luck_ , Felix thinks as he scrambles for any piece that is close enough to grasp. He finds one and the slice through his wrists is painful, but he does it. It’s _his_ pain. His control. That gets him far enough to do the other.

He’s bleeding. He was before, but now it’s different. Now it’s numbing. Felix is tired. He’s been tired. But now he’ll truly sleep.

He found a way to escape after all.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Dimitri’s there. Felix sees him through the fog once he lands wherever whoever really handled things after death is. If it is the Goddess, maybe he actually is sorry for what they did. Dimitri is looking at him, kindly, concerned, his eyes don’t have the beast within in them.

Felix reaches out to him, but something holds him back. He’s not standing. He’s lying down. Dimitri takes his hand. He says something distant and vague and Felix goes into blissful darkness again.

The next time Felix wakes, he realizes he’s woken. He also realizes he’s not dead. A part of him wants to laugh at himself. He couldn’t even do that right. It’s an easier goal to aim for at least, he thinks. He’s able to think, because he doesn’t feel the pains and aches where he should.

He lifts his arm up, it’s so heavy. There’s a wound there, but it’s already healing. Welts that should still be festering seem to be tended to as well and are mostly bruises turning from purple to green. He’s on something, he knows that much, even if he can’t name it.

“Felix?” it’s boar’s voice, but it can’t be the boar. There’s too much concern. He sounds like he should sound not like he does.

The hand that touches Felix is gentle, holds his wrist like he’s delicate. Felix almost thinks maybe—

He lets that go immediately and shuts his eyes, hoping to fall into sleep again. He does.

He wakes up a few more times, each more confusing than the last. The Tempest King is at his side, unshaven, harried, scared? Felix doesn’t know how to react. There’s a hand on his face, it’s large, but it’s too light to the beast’s. Even as he stares up at him, Felix doesn’t know.

He’s more cognizant later, when the healer who tends his wounds tells him he has to wean off the drug they’ve given him so that they can tell he’s healing and not masking his symptoms. It doesn’t hurt much. Not compared to what it was.

The days pass. Felix has no hold over how many of them, but he knows by the bags under the boar’s eyes and the stubble growing into a beard on his chin, that it’s passing. He expects to be torn to shreds once he’s _serviceable_ again, but that doesn’t happen. The healers keep him in his bed, comfortable enough to be Dimitri’s own, and wait until he actually feels better before they release him.

The beast comes then. Felix wonders if he’ll break him in again right here or wait until they’re back in his chambers. Neither of those things happen. He looks at Felix in a way Felix doesn’t recognize and then leaves him be.

They give Felix clothes. Not pieces of gaudy fabric that cover nothing, but actual _clothes_. He didn’t have time to the savor the feeling of pulling up trousers and tying knots in his jerkin when he ripped the clothes off the guard, but now he feels it. The smallest hint that he isn’t a thing.

Felix doesn’t trust it. He’s not naive anymore. He knows this must be some game the boar is playing. And soon enough, clothes and all, Felix is brought back to the king’s chambers. He almost walks to be chained up on instinct and then sees no chains there. There’s none attached to the walls either.

The boar must want him somewhere else. The somewhere else is at the table where the king takes his tea. There’s food there. Cured meats and cheeses. The boar can’t taste so it feels like its for Felix’s benefit, but that’s laughable. Felix stares at him and doesn’t eat.

“Do you want something else?” the beast asks, like he’s shy.

Felix stares at him.

“Do you want tea?” the Tempest King asks and then reaches for the pot himself like a servant. “I had them make Almyran Pine.”

Felix stares at him as he pours the tea. It smells like his favorite, but none of this feels real. “Why are you doing this?” Felix finally asks. This must be some new kind of sick game. He’s not really expecting an answer.

“What do you need?” Dimitri asks him, instead of answering.

The reality is impossible. Felix knows this, but he still looks down at the food and then back up at the concern on the monster’s face and says, “Let me leave.”

“Anything else,” the boar says.

“Let me die,” Felix says. He doesn’t know if he’s testing him or if he merely wants to succeed where he failed before.

“ _No_ ,” the beast says, sounding a little more like himself. The gruff violence is back and oddly reassuring. Felix is not dreaming. He’s actually here.

He drinks the tea and eats, feels the heat of the Tempest King’s gaze on him. Felix is halfway through his cup when he asks again. “What do you need, Felix? Anything else.”

Felix looks at him again. He’s shaven and dressed. He also hasn’t pinned Felix to the floor to violate or beat him. It’s too strange to comprehend. “You asked, I answered,” Felix says.

He doesn’t care if he upsets him. He doesn’t really care about anything at all.

The king’s temper does not rise. He merely watches as Felix finishes his plate and cup, and then pours him more.

When they sleep, Dimitri doesn’t do anything. He draws Felix in close, holds him in a way that would be impossible to free himself from if Felix had the energy left to try, but he doesn’t even undress Felix. He sleeps. He lets Felix sleep.

Felix wakes up in bed alone, blinking at the empty chambers. He sets his feet down on the floor and then walks to the window. It’s barred shut.

He sighs and then looks around the room, but the mirrors are gone, and whatever the boar shaved his face with is missing. For lack of anything better, Felix goes back to sleep.

Each passing day is stranger than the last. Felix feels fully healed, the only remnant of his injuries, the two white scars on his wrists. And still the boar’s done nothing but sleep. Felix gets meals daily, multiple times even. The boar insists on taking him out, but instead of showing him off he takes him into the gardens for fresh air. He lets him hold his arm, like he’s a lady being escorted rather than the boar’s prize pig.

And Dimitri continues to ask him what he wants. Felix continues to give him the same answers or no answer at all. Instead of taking out his frustration on Felix, things Felix might have wanted start appearing. He gets more clothes, food, and most of all Dimitri gives him a room.

“You can stay in here whenever you’d like,” Dimitri says, hands gentle on Felix’s shoulders. “If there’s anything you want for it, tell me.”

Something sharp, Felix almost says, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything. He tests it out. He goes into the room, with a bed, a dresser with his clothes, and a few books, and then doesn't come out again. Food is delivered. His chamberpot emptied. And Felix is convinced to bathe by one of the more nervous servants who asks nicely, but other than that Felix stays in his new prison cell.

It even has a window. Small and barred, but still. There’s light during the day and Felix sees when it finally begins to snow. It takes far, far longer than he expects for the beast to start pushing his way in.

And when Dimitri does, he does it gently, knocking on the door and asking Felix to at least have tea with him. He tries to make small talk of all the fucking things he could do.

Felix has no idea what he woke up to and no idea why it still holds.

Finally, with untouched tea, Felix looks at Dimitri and says, “Why are you doing this?”

The beast looks sincere of all things, sad even, he looks away. “I cannot forgive your betrayal, but I… did not wish my revenge to be your undoing. You’re not _Her_. You…” His hand shakes in a familiar way and grips into a fist, but it doesn’t come down on Felix or the table. “You made a mistake. A grievous error.” The fist releases and Dimitri’s palm comes to rest on the table as he turns to look at Felix again. “You’ve been punished enough for it.”

“Then let me go,” Felix says.

Dimitri shakes his head. “No.”

“Why?” Felix asks, feeling bolder, and more himself than he has in weeks… or even months. “If I’ve been punished enough let me go or execute me. Why am I still here?”

“Because you’re mine,” Dimitri growls and there’s a feral look in his eye as he stares Felix down. Felix steels himself automatically to be mounted or worse.

Dimitri only repeats himself, firmly, “You are mine.”

Felix, once again doesn't know how to react. “Are you done taking me?” he asks, quietly.

Dimitri shifts his jaw and breathes out. “I said whatever you need other than leaving. I meant it.”

Felix stares at him and considers the possibilities. He still wants to be free and unbound from this place, that’s where he should focus, but without any of the other torments, maybe he can stand it longer until a real opportunity presents itself. In the meantime… “Can I have more books?”

Dimitri oddly softens at that and nods. “Any you like.”

The beast is true to his word. Felix manages to give him that much. He doesn’t force himself on Felix, even when he touches him its momentary, like he’s reminding himself Felix is still here. The boar lets him sleep in his small room and stay there as long as he likes. Felix has trouble thinking of things he wants to try asking for, but eventually asks about going outside and exercising and Dimitri takes him out himself.

They walk the entire palace grounds and when Felix goes to sleep that night, he feels almost real again. Days stretch to weeks like this. Months go by and still the beast doesn’t waver. Felix can feel his impatience sometimes, but he tempers it in a way he didn’t think possible for such a creature.

A war with Sreng breaks out. Surprisingly, the Tempest King isn’t pleased by it. He tells Felix as much, when Felix gives in and starts having tea with him again, listening to the babble of his daily goings. The king feels he should take this on himself, but it isn’t like the war before. The country isn’t split. He has a duty to his people. He sounds… like Dimitri, a little bit.

He’s still the boar, so he’s angry about it. Even more when war councils start and strategy meetings and different talks of peace that turn into land grabs and more war. He’s furious sometimes. Felix stays in his room when the beast rears his head like that.

For however long he’s managed to keep his word, Felix doesn’t trust he won’t take an easy, familiar target, when he’s rampaging. Yet he doesn’t.

The war with Sreng ends when Dimitri finally ignores his council and goes himself. Bloodshed and victory for the Tempest King once again. He’s cold when he gets back, distant, but as the boar cleans up for bed and Felix inches towards his own room, he stops him.

Felix tries to swallow around his fear, but he’d gotten complacent no matter how how hard he tried not to. It didn’t help that the boar was _gone_ the last month. He knew this was coming, but he…

Dimitri cups Felix’s face with one hand, brushes his thumb against his forehead, and pushes his hair behind his ear. He seems like he’s going to kiss him. Not a bruising kiss either. The soft kind that Felix hated, because they reminded him of the one he wanted.

Dimitri stalls, halfway to Felix’s lips and then drops his hand. He turns his head away and actually asks. “Sleep with me. Tonight?”

“No,” Felix says, mostly to test it. The anger and tension ripples across the boar’s back, but he nods and walks away. Felix stares at his back and then goes to his own room to sleep.

The Tempest King’s mood does not sweeten, it sours and still he doesn’t direct it at Felix. Felix isn’t sure if anyone else is getting the brunt of it, but judging by the angry swearing, muttering, and cursing of the dead he hears, he thinks not.

One night the anger boils over. Felix had already retreated to his room, door closed, but he can still hear the violent yelling, tossing of things, the pained moans as the boar rampages. Felix is scared again, for the first time in a long time. He listens as the boar’s footsteps come to his door, closer and closer. It doesn’t have a lock and even if it did, it’s not like it would stop him. Felix has gotten comfortable enough that he’s more afraid than resigned to it. He shakes as the handle moves, willing his breath to be steadier, but it comes out in puffs of panic.

Then the handle stops. Felix hears the boar’s harried panting from behind the door. Hears the slam of his petulant fist, and then hears as he walks away.

There’s no real noises after that. Felix stares at his own door for almost an hour, waiting for it. He should go to sleep, prepare for another rage in the morning. He should…

Felix rises from bed and opens the door himself. Dimitri is seated at his own bed, head in his hands, he’s torn one of the bedposts straight off the bed. His breathing is rough, uneven, like an animal’s. Felix approaches him slowly.

Dimitri raises his head, his eyes are dark and almost feral, but he only watches as Felix walks towards him. Dimitri still asks sometimes what Felix needs. He stopped asking for escape of either kind a while ago. He can’t remember when.

Felix smooths the frown off Dimitri’s face as he puts his hands to both sides of it. “What do you need?” he asks.

Dimitri looks up at him in wonder and when Felix doesn’t break his gaze, his hands come to Felix’s waist and he takes him. He’s not gentle, but he’s not cruel. Felix lets him have what he wants out of him and Dimitri starts to calm the more of Felix he gets his hands on. Dimitri’s in him, stretching and filling him in a way he hasn’t been filled in months.

Dimitri cums first, filling him up even farther. Felix strokes his face and his hair, in his own awe at how much calmer the beast seems now.

Then Dimitri continues. He kisses Felix’s chest, the planes of his stomach, the inside of each wrist, and then his mouth is around Felix’s cock, giving something Felix wouldn’t have even thought to ask for. Soon after, Dimitri fucks him again, drawing it out this time, careful to hit all the places he would have only exploited before.

His whispers into Felix’s skin, presses kisses, and when the boar bites, it’s mild. It leaves a mark, but in the same way Dimitri does when he says, ‘Mine’ against Felix’s collar bone.

Felix nods and Dimitri’s tongue is exploring deeper into his mouth before he can say ‘Yours’ in return. He’s not sure he would. What Felix wants to say, is the same thing Dimitri’s saying. He wants to cling to Dimitri’s back, dig his fingers in as Dimitri fucks him slow and still hard. He wants to say, ‘mine’ to him back.

They finish, a tangle of sweat soaked limbs. Neither of them move after, even though Felix has room and knows he should clean himself up before it becomes a discomfort. His room is waiting for him, even if he knows he’s pushed that door open permanently now.

Then Dimitri presses his nose into Felix’s hair and breathes deep. And asks, “Stay?”

Felix realizes he can get up. So he doesn’t.

He falls asleep with Dimitri’s limbs wrapped around him, wondering if Dimitri had finally broken him or if he’d actually managed to tame the Tempest King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is a suicide attempt and ideation after


End file.
